


Crossing A Line

by Skyson



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, POV Multiple, Post "Chosen", Post-Season/Series 07, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21712294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/pseuds/Skyson
Summary: After many years, Buffy and Giles learn to accept that their relationship is not the same as it once was.Post Season 07, disregards comics.
Relationships: Rupert Giles/Buffy Summers
Comments: 9
Kudos: 57





	Crossing A Line

**Author's Note:**

> I think this song is so Buffy/Giles, I had to write something.
> 
> Working through my WIP's over the winter! Happy to finally feel this one has the ending I was going for. Spotify tells me "Crossing A Line" was in my top 5 songs for the year, so clearly I'd been working on this fic for far too long, haha.

* * *

To love **utterly** *: (adj.) Completely such, without qualification or exception. - Roget's II Thesaurus. _Without restriction, without question._

**——**

_I don’t know how to warn you  
For what I’m gonna say  
‘Cause you’re holding so tight to  
What I’m taking away_

_I’ve found what I have been waiting for_  
_But to get there means crossing a line_  
_So I’m crossing a line_

**——**

Buffy sat at the bar counter, swinging her crossed ankles idly as she chowed down on her sandwich. Toasty, cheesy, and the perfect amount of mayo and mustard. She hummed happily to herself, washing down the bite with a long drink of water.

“Good?” Giles murmured as he gathered up the utensils he’d used to make her late-night dinner.

“Yes,” She nodded with a small smile, “thanks, Giles.”

“You’re welcome. Do you need anything else?” He brushed his hand over her shoulder, a soft gesture, and she shook her head as her smile widened.

She watched him for a moment, while she ate, observing the contented smile on his face as he closed up packages of lunch meat and cheese and returned them to the fridge. She had felt uncomfortable for a moment at first, having a sandwich prepared for her like she was a kid again, but now that discomfort was gone. She felt warm, loved, cared for. It was a tiny thing, especially considering all of the other, more Giles-y, things that Giles still does for her. But it was a tiny thing that made her suddenly realize...

“I’m sorry that I compared you to my mother.” She apologized sincerely.

“E-excuse me?” Giles replied, confused. Buffy nodded as she thought over old memories, munching into one of the crunchy miniature pickles he’d added to her plate earlier.

“I didn’t get it, you see,” She explained. “The only other person who really cared for me, so... utterly, was Mom."

"Utterly...?"

"That’s not to say I think I’m not loved,” She thought to assure him quickly, glancing up and seeing what might’ve been disagreement on his face, “I know I’m loved. I know the others - the Scoobies - they look out for me in their own way. But it’s not _the same_ , it’s not like you.”

“Well,” His smile looked embarrassed, now, and he tugged his glasses off to swipe his handkerchief across the lenses. He’d gone back to slightly rounder frames, after the last breakage happened, a choice that secretly pleased her. “Of course I look out for you, Buffy. I will always be here for you. I won't make that mistake otherwise again.”

“I know.” She said softly, nodding.

It had taken some time, but their relationship had reformed and repaired after leaving the smoking sinkhole that remained of Sunnydale. Much to Giles’ surprise, Buffy had decided to go back to London with him, with the new Baby Slayers that hadn’t wanted to or couldn’t return home. Willow had wanted to go, as well, and Xander figured it wouldn’t have been the Scooby Gang without him. Dawn, after getting her high school diploma, chose to study at the Watcher’s School, claiming that she had better experience than most, considering her sister was The Slayer.

Though they all had their new duties to perform, Giles had made a point to keep in Buffy’s life. Both of them working at the headquarters building didn't necessarily make it easier, but she returned the sentiment, and they ended up now closer now than they had been in a long time. Defining their relationship wasn’t exactly easy for Buffy, and that was what she was attempting to clarify now.

Speaking seriously, Buffy told him,

“But you’re not my mother. You’re not...” She changed direction, a bit. “These... feelings, I thought they were kinda similar to how I would feel when Mom would take care of me when I was sick.” Giles’ brow furrowed deeply, and Buffy quickly continued, “I don’t mean coddled, just... cared for. Safe. Safe in a way that is difficult to explain - the kind of safe that is unshakeable.” Now he looked touched and troubled all at once.

“I... while I appreciate that very much, Buffy, we both know that I am far- far from perfect, and- and,”

“I didn't get it then. These feelings aren’t in any way related to anything... parental, Giles.” Buffy added.

He blinked at her, and after a moment simply said,

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me, Buffy.”

She sighed, and ate another bite of her sandwich to give herself a little more thinking time.

“You’re like my husband.” She decided, saying it aloud the very moment that it came to her, and Giles sucked in a sharp breath and then began coughing.

“I-I’m your _what?"_ He managed to croak out, before snagging a glass from the drying rack and filling it with water from the sink.

“After all these years, you've got my back, always,” She pointed out, “Even when I couldn't see it. Even when we’ve argued with one another, you still watch my back. Even after... after everything with The First, you're _still_ here. You stayed by my side. But you also aren’t afraid to tell me when I’m wrong - or when you think that I’m wrong, anyway,” She gave him a little wry smile there, which he gently returned. “You still guide me on my path when I need it but mostly you just walk it with me. You let me stumble and figure out how to pick myself up, but you’re also immediate with a helping hand when I truly need it.”

“I’ve not always been there for you in the past,” Giles grumbled to himself, frustrated with himself not for the first time about his choices, and she gave a small shake of her head.

“Like you said, you aren’t perfect. Nobody is - especially me. I certainly didn’t make things easy for you. Anyway... stuff like that happens to teach us what we should never do again, right?” She smiled a little, trying to ease his self-reproach, and then continued her original thought, “Watcher or not, you aren’t obligated to love me, or support me, or walk with me - but you choose to. From the very beginning there’s been love, respect, devotion, guidance... even with all my faults.” She tilted her head at him as he watched her warily, awaiting her finished point. “Travers got the interpretation wrong.”

“What interpretation?” He asked, lost again.

“Our relationship,” She answered.

She didn’t say ‘your love for me’. She wanted him to understand that she was talking mostly about herself here, right now. She didn't want to speak for him, strictly; only about what she sees in him. Giles blinked sharply, his eyes growing a little wider though his brow was still furrowed in confusion.

“You care for me... patch me up when I’m hurt... and then send me back out there and tell me to kick some ass.” She gave him another soft grin at that. “You don't always agree with me but you either let me learn for myself or you join me anyway. You let me vent about the stupidest stuff. You - you were completely out of your element when we first met but you still made a point to learn _me_ ; what I like to eat and what I like to do, what I hate about slaying, heck - you even learned my _language_ ," Her grin turned wry, and he smiled at that as well. "You make me feel... beloved. Like a wife.” She finished up the last of her sandwich while she gave him some time to respond.

“How would- h-how would you even know... what a, a, wife would even - how I would even...” He trailed off, flustered, and gestured vaguely with his forgotten glasses still in hand. He was blushing, again, and didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“I don’t,” She shrugged, wiping her napkin against her mouth and then tossing it onto the empty plate. “Every marriage is different, right? Though I figure there are the basics, you know,” She ticked off her fingers, “Love, equality, devotion, compassion, support, respect...” She paused. “Damn, I can’t think of one word for it, but, challenging each other to be better.” She huffed at herself. “Ruined my flow.”

“B- ...Buffy...”

“You’re my best friend, Giles. I mean, Willow is my best girl friend. Lady friend. Friend who is a gal. Anyway- I can talk to you about anything. Stuff that I could never talk to my parents about, stuff I can’t even talk to Will about. You get me in a way nobody else does, and I know some of that’s the Watcher stuff, but...” She trailed off, and looked at him carefully. “It’s not all Watcher stuff, right?”

His confused and lost expression drifted into something softer, and he murmured,

“You know that it isn’t.” He tilted his head at her, subconsciously mirroring her earlier curious expression. “Do you really think... I-I’m really your best friend?”

“The h-word scared ya, huh?” She noted, her smile easy and carefree. “That’s okay. I’m not asking you to marry me, Giles.” He looked startled again, and paled a bit. “I’m only making sure that you know that you can be... well, you. Don’t think you have to be all paternal or even the rakish uncle,” She chuckled a little at that. “Well, you can keep the rakish part if you’d like.” His pallor immediately shifted from white to red, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing again. “You’re my friend, my Watcher, my partner in crime.”

He looked pleased by that assessment, and stared down at his shoes for a moment. She was amazed that he could still have his shy moments, even after all these years. She could also tell that he was pretty overwhelmed by everything, so she slid off of the stool and grabbed her plate and glass, taking them to the sink.

“And thanks, again, for making me dinner. And for staying up until I got back. I don’t tell you often enough that part’s super appreciated.” She glanced over at him as she quickly washed and rinsed her dishes. He was smiling down at his shoes, and she felt overwhelmed with fondness for him.

After adding her dishes to the drying rack, she wiped her damp hands on her jeans and stretched up on her toes to press a quick kiss against his cheek. He didn’t pull away or even startle at her touch, but when she stepped back he lifted his head to look at her with soft amazement.

“'Night, Giles. And sleep in, in the morning, huh? Vampires have been slain and there’s no mysterious prophecy looming - tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“Today is Saturday,” He corrected her with a half-smirk, and she grinned. “And the thing about prophecies, you never really know- ”

“Good- _night_ , Giles,” Buffy laughed, nudging him, and his smile widened broadly.

“Good-night, Buffy. Sleep well.” He seemed much more at ease now, than he had been, so she felt comfortable enough to leave the conversation where it was and headed upstairs to her room.

She hadn’t told him _everything_ , but, he didn’t seem quite ready for that yet. She’d give him a while, and follow her own suggestion - just be herself. Maybe the husband-wife analogy had been too much, but, she didn’t regret using it. Giles was her guy, her stalwart, as much as anyone honestly could be. Beyond that, she figured the labels didn’t much matter, after all.  
  


**———**

  
“Well, when I heard there was a broody Englishman sitting at the bar at eleven o’clock in the morning, I was honestly expecting someone of the more ‘dead’ persuasion.” Xander quipped as he slid onto the stool next to Giles.

Giles merely grunted, and swallowed a drink of whiskey. He noted that Xander shared a nod with the bartender, before the man moved further away from them to give them their privacy.

“So.” Xander grew more serious, though kept his tone light, “What’s going on?”

“Buffy called me her husband.” Giles informed him calmly, without hesitation, still focused on his drink. During Xander’s silence, he swallowed another mouthful. He knew that Xander was trying to contain his own shock over the matter, to keep the focus on Giles and getting him out of this bar.

“And... this is... bad?” Xander’s tone lilted on ‘bad’, his discomfort and confusion apparent.

“No!” Giles quickly assured him, sitting up a little straighter. “Yes.” He slumped again. “I don’t know.” He took another drink, letting the liquor linger in his mouth for a moment. It was good; he’d asked for the more expensive brand. Better taste, and higher alcohol content. Quicker buzz. Though at this point, he was feeling a bit beyond ‘buzz’. Perhaps he’d lost count, after all.

“Are you- uh, are- _are you_ her husband?” Xander wondered, lowering his voice as if they were sharing some sort of highly confidential secret.

“No.” Giles answered, less defensive and more definitive. Then, he pursed his lips, and mused, “Maybe.”

“ _Maybe_?!” Xander looked a little panicked, now, and Giles sighed as he sat up straight again. He drained his glass, and reached into his wallet to pay the bartender. His movements were a little clumsy, but not horribly so, though he knew that Xander would have to drive him home anyway. He sighed again.

“May I leave my,” Giles began to ask the bartender, but Xander hurriedly got to his feet and snatched the keys he was about to hand across the counter.

“I’ll drive your car. I had Willow drop me off.” Xander promised, and Giles groaned.

“You can’t drive a manual.”

“Well, gotta learn some day,” Xander replied with crafted bravado; he looked just as worried as Giles felt. “Especially if I’m gonna be bailing your ass out of bars before it’s even breakfast - I mean, really?” He was in complaining mode, now, walking behind Giles as if he were afraid he was going to fall over at any moment. Giles did appreciate that he held the door open for him, though, as he was too busy squinting in the harsh sunlight. The _one_ day it was sunny in this town, and it had to be while he was drunk.

“Damned sun.” He grumbled, even as Xander continued on,

“Would being married to Buffy really be so bad? Sure, she’s super strong and even more strong-willed - could probably kill you in bed, haha, oh God wait, no, I don’t want to think of that,”

“Be quiet, Xander.” Giles ordered, squeezing his eyes closed tightly both against the bright day and against the images that flew unwarranted through his mind. “Damned whiskey.” He grumbled again, unable to control the little spark of excitement that went through him.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that; about the _feelings_ Buffy produced in him. Sure, they weren’t necessarily brand new, but he’d never before allowed himself to entertain them... not unless he was incredibly drunk, or feeling particularly sorry for himself. But now... after Buffy’s statements last night...

He was very confused.

“Actually, heck, you might be the only person to match her - I mean, you trained her, right? You know all her moves.” Xander babbled as he led the way to Giles’ car and opened the passenger door for him.

“I know _none_ of her moves, thank you very much,” Giles defended himself hotly. “I have never infringed upon Buffy’s trust of me!”

“I- I, was talking about training,” Xander apologized meekly, his face bright red. He managed to keep his mouth shut at least until they were both buckled in and the engine was rumbling. Xander sat there with his hands on the steering wheel, the car still in park.

“The clutch is that pedal there,” Giles pointed wryly, and Xander huffed at him as he shifted the car into gear.

“I know the mechanics of it!” Xander retorted defensively, his nervousness apparent. Giles wasn’t sure if it was due to the topic of conversation or having to drive the stick-shift.

After making a stumbling go of it for a minute, Xander eventually got them headed down the road, at speed, with only a bit of guidance from Giles. Were he less annoyed, and less drunk, Giles would actually feel fairly proud of the young man. Perhaps he would remember to tell him later. He was driving much better than Spike had - though admittedly, this car handled much better than the Citroen ever had.

“It sounds to me...” Xander began slowly, after a long period of silence, “Maybe Buffy’s the one that did the infringing?”

“She’s never acted inappropriately,” Giles defended his Slayer. “Not in that way.”

“So...” Xander glanced over at him briefly. “What happened? ...If you want to talk about it. ‘Cause I didn’t know being married could be a ‘maybe’ kind of thing. Sort of a yes or no question. That part’s right there in the handbook.”

Giles watched the passing scenery for a minute, until he began to feel too dizzy and focused his gaze back toward the dashboard in front of him.

“She told me... that I am not a parental figure to her. That I don’t have to act as one.”

“Really?” Xander wondered with surprise. “Of course you’re Team Dad, you’ve always been our mentor, go-to adult, The Voice of Reason...” He trailed off, and then nodded with a soft ‘ahh’ that had Giles narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “But never to Buffy.” Xander said knowingly.

“Never?” Giles repeated.

“Well, sure you’re like her mentor and all that in a way - you’re her Watcher, right? But you were always... different, to us Scoobies.” He snorted suddenly. “I mean, _we_ didn’t get jealous whenever you had lady friends about.”

Giles very clearly heard Xander’s implication, and didn’t know what to do with it.

“She- she- ” He changed focus a bit, “Buffy merely explained our relationship with one another, not- she was not implying _intimacy_.” Xander was too focused on that specific aspect of ‘husband-and-wife’.

“There’s other ways to be intimate with someone, Giles.” Xander replied, pointedly raising his eyebrow, and Giles stared at him with surprise. “Yeah, yeah, I have my moments of maturity. Anyway- if it isn’t about the nooky-nooky, then what’s got you so bothered, Watcher-man? You know, I know, everyone knows that you and Buffy are close and in ways that no one in the universe can compete with. That’s not new news, right?”

“No.” Giles admitted quietly, choosing not to waste brain-power commenting on Xander’s vocabulary. He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. The sun was still too bright. “What she told me last night... it’s what I’ve always wanted for her. Something normal. Something _good_.”

“So we’re drinking in celebration, then.” Xander said brightly, and Giles shook his head without opening his eyes.

“She deserves that and _more_ , Xander. An actual husband. One who respects her and adores her for all that she is- ”

“You,” Xander interjected.

“Who supports her and helps her without feeling the need to control her- ”

“You.” Xander put in again. "Once you'd told the Council to shove it, anyway..."

“Who loves her absolutely, unendingly- ”

“You!”

“Who can provide for her the intimacy she deserves!” Giles huffed, glaring at Xander in annoyance now. “In _every_ way. She deserves a true partner like that. She’ll never see one if she shoehorns me into that title in her life.”

Xander pulled to a stop at the stop-sign, but turned to look at Giles instead of checking for traffic and continuing through the intersection.

“Giles. While I have _no_ earthly idea how in the world it could naturally come up in conversation, you said that she called you ‘husband’ last night. That is what she said, right? You aren’t making assumptions from Buffy-language or anything?”

“It’s what she said.” Giles tried to relax. Xander didn’t deserve the brunt of his frustration.

“Buffy isn’t an idiot,” Xander pointed out, “Regardless what she tries to make people think. She knew exactly what she was saying. If she said that she thinks of you like a husband, then she _means_ it. For everything that title deserves.”

Giles sat there quietly for a moment, then shifted his gaze back toward his knees, feeling suddenly shy.

“She said she wasn’t asking me to marry her.” He mumbled. “She was just asking me ‘to be me’.”

“Then be you,” Xander gave him a nod. “Love her absolutely, and un- is that even a word? Unendingly? Of course it’s a word, if you said it...” He refocused, “If you think Buffy deserves a whole-hearted partner, then _give it to her_.” Giles hesitantly returned his gaze to Xander. “You want to.” Xander said softly, knowing.

“I’ve hurt her,” Giles reminded him, instead of arguing. “I will hurt her, again. We argue, we fight,”

“You make up.” Xander interjected, before Giles could get on another roll again. “Even if sometimes it takes a little while, you keep coming back to each other. I mean heck - between Glory and The First, you guys could have easily split apart forever, but look at you now. Doesn’t that tell you anything?” Giles tangled his fingers together in his lap and clenched them together, having no specific argument against that, though he wanted to. “Use your superpowers of deduction, Giles. If she said she sees you as a sort of husband, then that naturally must mean...” He trailed off, but Giles didn’t pipe in. “She sees herself as a wife!” Xander huffed. “Your wife. So all that stuff you said, about respect and adoration and unending love - that’s a wife thing, too. A Buffy thing. For you.”

_You make me feel beloved. Like a wife._

“Bloody hell.” Giles exclaimed softly, but with feeling.

“Just, um, give it some time, you know?” Xander suggested gently, finally checking the roads and continuing the drive home. “Like Buffy said, you be you. Let Buffy be Buffy. The chips fall where they may.”

“And if they fall with driving us apart?” Giles challenged, and Xander snorted.

“The two of you, being honest and open with your feelings? What’s that saying about the pigs and the flying?”

Giles folded his arms across his chest and slouched in his seat, put-out that Xander seemed so sure of things when he himself did not. However, by the time the car was parked safely in the driveway and Xander was helpfully guiding him into the house, he stopped being petulant.

“When did you grow up on me, Xander?” Giles wondered softly as they paused in the doorway. “I’m very proud of you, and how mature you’ve become. ...Even if it’s occasionally at my expense.” Xander laughed, and patted his shoulder before turning him into the house.

“Go lay down on the couch and sleep some of that whiskey off, big guy - now you’re talking crazy.” He looked extremely touched by Giles’ assessment, however, so Giles didn’t say anything else and did as ordered.  
  


**———**

  
Xander sighed heavily as he joined Willow in the little yard out back, settling into the loveseat next to her with enough umph to keep it swaying on the rocker for a few minutes.

“Was he there?” She asked calmly, taking a sip of her tea.

“Yeah, he was still at the bar. Still drinking, actually - I didn’t think to ask what number.”

“Is it bad?” That question was a little more worried, but Xander smiled softly and she immediately relaxed.

“He’s not all that drunk. Got quite a buzz going, but... no, Will, it’s good. It’s really good.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, listening to the birds singing and the wind rustling the trees.

“Have you seen Buffy, yet, this morning?” Xander wondered.

“Oh, God, it _is_ about Buffy,” Willow groaned. “They’re fighting again, aren’t they?”

“No, Willow,” Xander chuckled a little and was quick to assure her. “They aren’t fighting, I promise. Though... it is about Buffy. A little bit.”

“A little bit?”

“It’s also about himself. Giles is just going through...” Xander mused for a moment. “A bit of an identity change, is all.”

“He’s going to stop being her Watcher again?” She worried, remembering the last time he’d gone through ‘an identity change’.

“No,” He shook his head, “I think they’re both just learning to accept that he’s more than that to her.”

“Oh.” A minute went by before realization fully hit Willow. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah.” Xander smirked. They looked at one another, and both of their grins widened mischievously.  
  


**———**

  
When they had all moved to London, it had taken him a little while to get used to the idea that he could truly be himself around Buffy. That she still sought his advice and opinion, that he could ask for _her_ opinion and advice more often, as well.

While he’d doubted the sort of advice they could share would be necessarily an equal equation, he was pleased to find that although Buffy hadn’t experienced as many years on this Earth as he had, there was a maturity to her thinking beyond her years, that even went beyond her experience living as a Slayer.

Watching her guide the other Slayers, he was pointedly reminded of the fact that she was no longer a teenager fighting against the inevitability of adulthood and her calling. And once he had accepted that, he found it easier to be her friend - to truly treat her as an equal. Although she still called him Giles, he made a point to behave more as Rupert - around her and around the other Scoobies.

Though, most often just around her. It was a growing process.

He was amazed at the difference these rather subtle changes made between them, and he lamented that perhaps he should have shown her more Rupert a long time ago, and perhaps have avoided much of their painful past.

Most apparent, they hadn’t argued in months. Certainly they still disagreed on some matters concerning the other Slayers and the New Council, but their debates were more sincere and less acerbic. There were no slamming doors or harsh personal snipes. Opinions were listened to and considered intently even if they never did end up reaching a full agreement.

The other night in the kitchen, when she asked him to just be him... what more could she want? Was she aware, somehow, that he _had_ been holding back slightly, even still? That he had worried about becoming _too_ close, simply because the nature of their relationship was already so... intimate?

But she wanted that intimacy, apparently.

"No, you git, not _that_ intimacy," Giles growled to himself as a few images came to mind unbidden, and he scrubbed his dinner plate a little harder than necessary. After his conversation with Xander, he was finding it difficult not to... consider. To linger a little longer on thoughts that he hadn't dared let linger before.

"Did that plate insult your ancestors, or something?" Buffy quipped, sidling up beside him.

He jumped, startled by her presence, and the soapy dish slipped from his fingers. Lightning quick, Buffy snatched her hand out and grabbed it before it clattered into the sink and possibly broke. He felt his cheeks grow hot as she gave him a wry smile and handed the plate back to him.

"Whatcha' thinking about?" Buffy wondered casually as she reached across him to snag the dirty glass and began to wash it. "It's not often I can sneak up on you, anymore, and I wasn't even trying this time."

He thought about fibbing, but reconsidered. _Let the chips fall where they may._

"You." He answered softly, and her hands paused under the faucet as she rinsed the soap from the glass, but she didn't say anything as she recovered and rested the glass in the drying rack on the counter. She grabbed the cooking pan, next, and scrubbed it quietly for a moment while Giles inwardly panicked.

"What about me?" She eventually wondered, and his panic increased tenfold in a different direction. She sounded coy. Like she was flirting.

Was Buffy flirting? With him?

"A-about... the, the other night." He admitted. He rinsed the plate and then stepped around her to dry it with the hand towel, and she took his place directly in front of the soapy water in the sink. It did not pass his notice how well they worked around one another, even in domestic moments like these, and the thought filled him with pleasure.

He shifted his feet, discomforted and unsure that he SHOULD be feeling that sort of pleasure of domesticity. With Buffy.

 _With Buffy_... a smile threatened to reveal itself on his lips. In that second he decided that shoulds or should nots didn't matter, not with them, not anymore. Not after everything. The only thing that mattered was what was.

"Giles?"

"Hmm?" He hummed distractedly, and realized she was giving him a lifted brow and a lopsided grin. It made him want to grin in return, so he did, albeit sheepishly. "I'm sorry. Woolgathering."

"About the other night?" She figured, repeating his words, and he hesitated again before eventually nodding. Her smile widened, and softened, and he stopped feeling sheepish. He did feel incredibly nervous, however.

"Buffy, I... I'm not sure that I understand what you want me to be," He admitted carefully, setting the plate on the counter and drying the glass next.

"I don't want you to _be_ anything, Giles," Buffy furrowed her brow slightly. "Other than yourself."

"But you said," He began to point out, and she shook her head, and he recognized by her expression that it was more at herself than at him.

"I thought that we needed a label." She told him. "But we don't, really. You're Giles. My Giles. That's it." She shrugged, as if entirely comfortable with her phrasing.

In a sense, however, it somehow sounded even more intimate than 'husband'.

"We don't, right? Need a label?" She checked, glancing toward him as she rinsed the soap from the pan. "I'm just your Buffy. And that's cool, right?"

"My Buffy," He repeated in a murmur, not entirely meaning to. He did notice her slight flush, however, and cleared his throat as he focused very intently on the glass he was drying. "We don't need labels," He agreed with her aloud, though mentally he wasn't as certain. "You are very dear to me, Buffy, and you always shall be." That much was firmly true. Regardless of his confused libido.

"I meant what I said, though." She nudged him gently with her shoulder, an action that still rocked his weight from one foot to the other. "You make me feel beloved."

"Good." He hummed warmly, taking the pan from her to dry it, both of them focusing their eyes on the dishes instead of each other.

Their relationship might be difficult to define, but no matter what, he wanted Buffy to feel happy, to feel peace, to feel loved.

And now that it seemed she had reached that place, he would do everything in his power to keep her there.  
  


**———**

  
At the sound of footsteps on the stairs, Buffy and Willow both shifted around in their seats at the bar counter, to find Giles stepping around the corner into the living room. He yawned, scratching a hand through his hair, not noticing the two ladies already awake and about.

The sleep-ruffled look, coupled with the pajama pants and the snug white undershirt (that shifted up with his stretching arm to reveal a curious bit of tummy), had Buffy suddenly feeling all warm and tingly inside.

“Yum.” She breathed out the word without thinking, and heard Willow’s spit-take into her glass of orange juice. Buffy winced, and turned slowly to face her. “Did that come out out loud?” Buffy asked lamely, and Willow’s wide-eyed stare and o.j. splattered chin was answer enough.

“Oh,” Giles finally noticed that he wasn’t the only one up at this early hour, but when Buffy looked back at him he didn’t seem embarrassed. He had a soft, kind-of-sleepy smile on his face.

Buffy felt her insides melt.

“Good morning.” He murmured.

Buffy managed a partial smile, and opened her mouth to reply, but he was already moving toward the cabinets and pulling down tea stuffs.

“Good morning, Giles.” Willow replied in a completely relaxed, calm, normal way, even as she dabbed a napkin over her chin and mouth.

Buffy felt like she looked like a suffocating fish for a moment before she managed to add,

“Yes.”

Giles didn’t seem to notice her oddness, and she pressed her lips together firmly, bewildered at herself. Then she took a long, cooling drink from her own glass of juice.

Willow at least had the decency to wait until Buffy swallowed, before elbowing her side. Her grin, though, when Buffy met her gaze again, was anything but decent. Willow’s eyebrow quirked, and Buffy sent her an incredulous expression, gesturing wildly at Giles’ back.

She had no idea what had prompted this... this. Though, looking at his back again, it was a nice one. Comfortably broad, with strong shoulders; his tee did well to accentuate them. She was familiar with how strong his arms were, having sparred with him over the years, but she was still distracted by the definition she could see just beneath the hem of the sleeve...

Willow elbowed her again, and Buffy - flushing a bit with embarrassment at getting caught staring - whipped a glare in her direction.

“I’ll be right back,” Giles announced with another yawn, after setting the kettle on the stove to boil. He shuffled back out of the room, and the moment his bare feet were out of earshot, both girls leaned toward one another.

“ _Yum_?!” Willow repeated, stupefied.

“When did Giles get to be such a stud-muffin?” Buffy hissed, and Willow gaped at her in amazement.

“Preaching to the choir, girl - I’ve known it since high school, remember? Since when did _you_ know it?!”

“I-I-I don’t know!” Buffy knew she was coming across as incredibly defensive, but she couldn’t help it. She’d taken just one look at him this morning, and...

“Oh God, whatever you’re thinking right now, please stop,” Willow begged, “The licking of the lips is giving me horrible assumptions,”

Buffy pressed her mouth closed tightly, blushing again.

“What, you can crush but I can’t?” She griped, embarrassed by her apparent lack of filter this morning.

“Innocent school-girl!” Willow pointed out, gesturing to herself, and then gestured at Buffy, “Not... _yum_!”

“He must be doing something different,” Buffy figured, mostly speaking to herself. “Ever since we talked about our relationship. He’s doing something different.”

“Giles isn’t doing anything different,” Willow informed her, drinking her orange juice as if the gesture punctuated her sentence. “You’re just seeing him different.” She furrowed her brow for a second and corrected herself, “Differently.”

“He wears that every morning?” Buffy demanded.

“Every night, too, far as I know.” Willow quipped with a nod, and Buffy groaned, dropping her head onto the cool countertop.

“I promised, I promised.” She muttered to herself, her voice muffled. “No rushing. No. Rushing.”

“What’s that?” Willow hadn’t quite heard her, and she was fine with that.

“Alright, Buffy?” Giles asked, suddenly back in the kitchen again, and she felt his hand on her shoulder. Warm. Big. Strong.

Great - now she was monosyllabic.

“Fine!” She said too brightly, lifting her head to give him what she hoped was an assuring smile. His brow was furrowed in concern, and he glanced toward Willow. Buffy was too busy staring at his face to see what Willow did, but whatever it was it seemed to put him at ease.

This close, she could see that he was still a little scruffy with the five o’clock shadow. That warm feeling spun around in her gut again.

He smiled a little, the soft one again, and shifted his hand.

“Crumbs,” He teased, and before Buffy could express her confusion, or perhaps wail in despair at her frantic emotions, he rubbed his thumb against the corner of her mouth.

“We had toast this morning.” Willow announced as if that were a thing she was proud of.

“Mm.” Giles noted in agreement. The pad of his thumb lingered at Buffy’s bottom lip, then slowly slid across the length of it.

Silence seemed to stretch forever.

“I assumed.” He suddenly said in response to Willow’s proclamation, as if he hadn’t been staring at Buffy’s lips, and then moved away toward the stove.

Buffy stared after him, her mouth hanging open, her heart in her throat, her bones feeling like she’d been struck by lightning - Willow elbowed her side sharp enough to draw a yelp out of her.

‘What?!’ Willow mouthed at Buffy in curious amazement, who scowled silently back and pointed a finger warningly at her, even as she felt her face heat with embarrassment yet again.

God, she was really on a roll this morning. Maybe she should sit outside and feign a sunburn. Maybe she should sit outside for the fresh air. Maybe she should drag that t-shirt off of Giles and tell him how she really feels.

“Still hungry, Buffy?” Willow asked, her tone far too innocent.

Buffy realized she was licking her lips again. (And was that his skin, she could taste a hint of, on her lower lip?)

“Argh!” She jumped to her feet and stormed out the back door, the screen slamming closed behind her. It might’ve woken up Xander, but whatever. She needed to cool it. Giles still needed time to get used to where they were right now. She definitely could _not_ jump him in the middle of the kitchen. Especially with Willow present.

“Perhaps she’d like me to cook breakfast?” Giles wondered; she was still close enough to the house to hear them speaking in the kitchen.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve got just the answer for Buffy’s cravings.” Willow chortled, and Buffy clenched her fists and silently groaned.

Willow was never going to let her get away with this.  
  


**———**

  
The group came together as one after the proverbial dust settled, checking one another over for injuries. After Willow finished hugging Buffy and had turned to check on the gash on Xander's cheek, Buffy approached Giles.

"Told ya," She quipped, though she was still noticeably short of breath, "Easy."

The demon had not been anything close to easy, but joking about it helped soothe the adrenalin and for her to let go of yet another near-death-experience.

“My dear one,” Giles murmured in relief and with pride, his hand warm against the back of her neck. He’d taken to touching her this way, lately. Like an upgrade from the shoulder touch.

A very nice upgrade.

Buffy trembled a little, longing to take that last step across the line. It wasn't even necessarily that she ached to kiss him with the same desperation as boyfriends of before - but that there were moments where a kiss seemed so natural to do that she had to pull herself back mid-move.

Granted, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious about kissing him. It just wasn't only a physical thing - and that weirded her out. Boyfriends in the past had always been a physical thing - they'd been pretty and strong and good kissers... to varying degrees. Though Angel, of course, had been much deeper than only the physicality of a relationship. But Angel had been a long time ago.

Giles wasn't even her boyfriend; she couldn't help but feel weirded out by herself and her feelings. That she could be so attracted to someone that the physicality didn't really matter. And did that make it attraction, at all? Or rather another type of love? It was so far removed from her 'usual'... at least, her usual following Angel.

She wanted to talk to Willow about it, but she wasn't sure where to begin. She had a feeling if she repeated the 'husband-wife' conversation, Willow would have a cow and start making wedding plans.

Over the last few months, she and Giles did flirt, a little bit. Occasionally. Always in a very light-hearted, more-friendly-than-anything-else kind of way. And every now and then he would touch her in a way that felt like maybe... more. She figured that could likely be her own interpretation, however. Her body was just confused; she'd never been this close with a man without it being physical. Giles never made an overt move. He never kissed her other than on her forehead, her temple, her hair.

That one time the tops of her knuckles, in an oddly lingering and warm moment that left her confused long after he'd gone upstairs to bed.

There were pet names, and loving gestures, and soothing touches, but never anything strictly sexual. And though Buffy sometimes found herself subconsciously about to kiss him, she continued to refrain. Giles seemed happy, and at peace, in a way she wasn't sure she'd ever seen before. He clearly adored where their relationship was now, and she wouldn't threaten that.

She resolved to continue to ignore her musings on how kissable Giles might be.

For now.

She just needed to get her subconscious on the same page.

"If Mom and Dad are done making eyes at each other, I'd like to go home and put some ice on my face now." Xander whined.

Buffy stepped back and Giles let his hand to drift down to his side, and while she lamented the loss she rolled her eyes at Xander.

"Shut up, Xander." She picked up her sword that had previously been knocked aside during the fight, and tucked it into the sheath on her back as Giles led the way to the car, wiping a handkerchief against his glasses.

"I was not m-making _eyes_." Giles huffed, though he kept resolutely focused on cleaning his glasses as he walked in front of them and wouldn't let any of them see his face directly.

"Right," Xander was the one who rolled his eye, this time, " _Watcher_."

Willow snickered, but at a look from Buffy she swallowed it down and looped her elbow around Xander's to walk with him behind Giles. Buffy brought up the rear, just in case a lingering vampire decided to make an appearance.

She thought of the way Giles called her _dear_ , and _love_ , so often now and without reservation. She smiled to herself. Who needed smoochies when you had stuff like this?

As they were all buckling into the car, Giles and Buffy met eyes for a moment in the front seat. The small quirk of his lips was almost coy, and Buffy grinned back before turning to face the window, not wanting to get caught staring.

Maybe smoochies would still be a nice bonus, too.  
  


**———**

  
"Are you ever going to tell me what's going on with you and Giles?" Willow asked as she helped Buffy search for some books in the library to add to her lesson plan.

"What's going on with me and Giles?" Buffy returned in the same kind of question, and Willow gave her a look as she turned from the shelves and passed her a book.

"For the past year? You being all," Willow gestured her hand vaguely in the air in Buffy's direction, "Googly-eyed. All the _touching_."

"We don't touch!" Buffy protested, then glanced around quickly to make sure her voice hadn't carried too much.

The librarian, a lady who looked like she'd possibly been the Council librarian since the beginning of time, squinted her eyes in a glare. Buffy gave her an apologetic look and dragged Willow further between the stacks.

"I don't know what's happening." Buffy admitted lowly, worriedly. "I just... Earlier, months ago now I guess, I started wondering about- about things. You and Xander are my friends, my best friends, and we've known Giles for just as long - well, not as long as you and Xander have known one another, but,"

"I won't let you ramble off topic." Willow warned with a raised eyebrow, and Buffy sighed.

"I think Giles is my best friend too, but in a different way. And I was trying to figure that out."

"...And?" Willow prodded.

"And... I might've... let my mouth get ahead of my brain..."

" _You_? I'd never expect." Willow commented, a teasing glint in her eye.

"Har har, you're a riot." Buffy rolled her eyes. Letting it all out in one breath, she admitted, "I might've alluded that Giles was my husband."

"You..." Willow's eyes widened exponentially. "You _what_!"

"Shush!" The librarian couldn't see them but her warning carried through the stacks easily enough.

Buffy flipped open the book to check out some of the fighting styles referenced within, and to hide her face from Willow's direct perusal.

"Well," She mumbled lamely, "then I figured we didn't really need labels after all and he was just my Giles and I'm really happy we're all together again and- "

"Buffy." Willow grabbed onto her shoulders to halt her tirade. "So, to summarize: you called Giles your husband and then you took it back?"

"Well... sort of. I guess." Willow made a face at that, and Buffy grimaced. "What? He looked panicky so I back-pedaled. Should I not have back-pedaled?"

"You probably confused him more than anything else," Willow informed her, and she groaned quietly.

"I meant to do the opposite."

"Well... I mean it all worked out otherwise, right? I mean you two are all smoochy now,"

"What? No we aren't." Buffy insisted quickly, and Willow was visibly surprised by that. "Not at all. No smoochies."

"None?" Willow furrowed her brow. "Are you sure?"

"Am I- seriously?"

"Well, okay, that's something somebody's generally pretty sure about." Willow relented the point. "So... you're confused now, huh?"

"Totally." Buffy breathed out.

"Giles is probably confused, too. I've told you before, boys are fragile creatures, Buffy." Willow reminded gently.

"But, but Giles isn't just any boy!" Buffy defended herself. "He's Giles!"

"That's right," Willow mused thoughtfully, the glint in her eyes only growing brighter. "He's a babe, right? A hunk of burning _yum_ \- "

"Hey! Stop that!" Buffy hissed, nudging her friend who only giggled in return. "I was talking about serious stuff! Emotional stuff! Our relationship to each other!"

"And then you were checking him out in his p.j.s," Willow wiggled her eyebrows. “Don’t think I forgot about _that_ morning.”

"It's not that I _want_ to kiss him," Buffy whispered. "I mean - I do kinda want to, actually." Willow's eyes got big again and Buffy hurriedly continued, "But it's that I keep finding myself _about to_ kiss him. Without even thinking of it. Like..."

"Like it's normal?" Willow guessed, and Buffy nodded.

"You know how he comes in earlier than us on Wednesdays?" Buffy confided, the two ladies leaning even closer toward one another in secret. "Yesterday I made him his thermos of tea, and when I gave it to him as he was leaving, I... I kissed his cheek." Willow blinked. "I didn't even think about it. Didn't hesitate. Just passed him his drink and told him to have a good day and- " Buffy gave Willow a despairing look, and Willow grinned widely.

"You two really are an old married couple." She laughed, and Buffy moaned and hid her face in her hands. "So there _have_ been smoochies." She noted smugly, and Buffy pouted at her.

"Not _real_ ones."

"So... your concern is what, exactly? You'd like smoochies and you think he won't?"

Buffy hesitated for a long moment, but eventually nodded.

"This is so weird to be saying, but, I don't really need that to be happy. I really am happy the way we are. But I'm just getting tired of stopping myself from being... more affectionate. And what if it makes him pull away again? I couldn't stand that, Willow. Not after everything."

"I think you should tell him that." Willow hummed. Then, to lighten the mood a little, quipped, "You've already told him he's your husband. You can't really get any deeper than that."

"God, he probably _is_ confused." Buffy sighed at herself.

"Do you want me to, um, talk to him?" Willow offered, and Buffy stared at her with wide, worried eyes. "Don't worry, I won't give anything away. I'll just... feel him out. See where he is on the wacky scale." Buffy tilted her head at her friend, briefly confused, and Willow quirked a grin at her. "Love makes you do the wacky, remember? And we all know he does love you. We just gotta find out how much."

Buffy had to think it over for a few minutes, as she and Willow continued to quietly search through the shelves. Eventually, though, she agreed to Willow's plan.

"Here," Willow handed over one more book as they headed toward the checkout counter. "Just in case he's totally wacked," Buffy gave her a weird look at her expression, and flipped the book over to check out the title as she set the other books down for the librarian to scan out.

" _Willow_!" Buffy hissed, turning red immediately, but she couldn't hit her in front of the librarian, who was already looking angry enough at Buffy's outburst.

"Ahem."

Buffy jumped at Giles' disapproving tone behind her, and she spun around on her heel, hiding the book behind her back and staring at him wide-eyed. He looked teasing at first, but then tilted his head in confusion at the way she was acting.

"Are you alright?"

"Fine." Buffy blinked at him. He squinted at her, only further confused, and his eyes glanced down toward the arm twisted around her back.

"Giles! Just the guy I was looking for." Willow piped up, stepping forward and tucking her elbow around Giles'. "Mind joining me for lunch? I have... um, a question. About magic!"

"Well... I was going to," Giles glanced from Willow toward Buffy, and Buffy quickly piped in,

"Yeah, you guys go ahead! I've got lesson plans to finish up, anyway." She gestured toward the three books on the counter while avoiding looking the disapproving librarian in the eye.

Giles looked briefly disappointed, but then smiled softly at Willow and nodded, and the two of them left.

Buffy let out a breath in relief, and the librarian cleared her throat pointedly.

"Do you really think that is appropriate?" She raised her eyebrow at the book in Buffy's hands, and Buffy quickly pushed it to the side on the counter and gathered the books she actually needed.

"No, uh, no, Willow was just... playing a joke." Buffy replied weakly. She offered a quick apologetic smile and then got out of there before the lady could say anything else.

She made a mental note to demand Willow later just how she knew what the Kama Sutra was, anyway.

And hey - if the book was so inappropriate, why did they have it in their library anyway???  
  


**———**

  
“So.” Willow smiled across the table at Giles as they both sat down with their tea and sandwiches. "How are you, Giles? I mean really. We don't get to chat just the two of us often."

“I suppose we don't,” Giles mused with a soft smile. “I’m happy. Content. Probably more so than I’ve been in a very long time.” He gave her a curious look. "And you?"

“Oh, same." Willow nodded brightly, happy with his answer. She was _sure_ that it was at least in part because of Buffy. "London has been a fresh start, you know? It's been nice. Well," She quickly amended, "fresh with old friends. Which is good!"

"Yes," Giles laughed lightly. "I would have to agree." He stirred his tea before asking, "What is it you'd like to know?"

"Huh?" Willow blanked, panicking for a second. Had she blown her cover already?

"About magic. I'm afraid I've told you basically everything I already know, but if you need to debate something with me, I'll do my best to help." He quirked an eyebrow at her. "And you know the coven in Devon is always at your disposal."

"Right, oh, yes." Willow thought quickly, wondering if she could weave her plan into the excuse properly. "It's... about Slayer magic!"

"Slayer magic?" Giles frowned.

"I know I don't really cover those courses; this is just a um, personal interest." Willow hurriedly added. "You know, I've always been really curious about it since the Scythe and all the Potentials and you know,"

"Willow." Giles gently interrupted her, and she gave him a sheepish smile. "Anything specific? 'Slayer magic' is a rather broad topic."

"Their bonds with Watchers." Willow blurted as he lifted his mug to his lips. He paused, and blinked quickly a few times before responding.

"Um... well..." Giles narrowed his eyes for a second before taking a drink and then setting his mug on the table. "There isn't anything magical about that, Willow. Watchers are chosen by the Council, and trained."

"Nothing magical? Nothing at all?" Willow pressed suspiciously.

"Nothing literal, anyhow." Giles replied, and then looked as if he wished he hadn't, and quickly took a drink again. Willow hid her smile behind her own cup, feeling like she was on the right trail. "The bond between a Watcher and Slayer is- is, crafted. Molded. Cultivated through experience and circumstance."

"So..." Willow considered thoughtfully. "If a Watcher and Slayer managed to survive longer than the norm... their bond would be like, really serious right? I mean, after slaying so many vampires and demons together and almost dying so many times it would get intense, right?"

"Yes, yes, I suppose 'intense' is one word for it." Giles flustered a little. "What is this about, Willow?" He was obviously suspicious now, so Willow scrambled to derail him.

"Since we have so many Slayers now, and so few Watchers, I was just wondering... I mean, could a Slayer be a Watcher? Like, to another Slayer? If they didn't want to be a Slayer themselves?" Willow smiled to herself, pleased. Her question had been spontaneous but now she found herself really curious about the answer. Giles raised his eyebrows in surprise, probably having expected to catch her in a lie.

"That's... I haven't considered that." He sat back in his seat, his gaze distant as his mind ran over possibilities. "That's a very interesting idea, Willow."

"Cause some of the girls know their stuff, but when it comes to the actual slaying, you know..."

"They don't take to it quite like Faith, hmm?" He smiled gently, and Willow nodded, returning the expression. "Were you worried about the Slayer magic getting in the way of a bond forming? In all honesty, I believe the partnership derived between two Slayers has the possibility of being deeper than any other."

"Or a really bad idea - Faith and Buffy? Weren't exactly gangbusters." Willow noted, and Giles winced and nodded in agreement.

"They certainly work better in ehm, brief situations." He agreed. "Surely that could be something taken into account. The Slayer would have to feel comfortable to defer to the Watcher, after all,"

"Like Buffy always deferred to you?" Willow laughed, and Giles pursed his lips but then smiled as well.

"And the Watcher would have to trust the Slayer's instincts." He finished his point. "If said Watcher were indeed another Slayer, they would quite possibly have to learn how to either put aside their own instincts, or work together more as partners."

"You and Buffy did that!" Willow pointed out positively. "You know, good partners and stuff! ... Most of the time..."

"We had our issues, and I did not have my own Slayer instincts to contend with." Giles returned gently. "This is certainly an avenue to explore, however- "

"You had your own, Giles-y instincts." Willow interrupted his mumbling, nodding. "They just coincided with Buffy's more often than not. That's why I wondered about the magic thing. If there was a bond or something, because you worked better together when you were, you know, together."

Giles' brow twitched, and she hurriedly added,

"Not together together! Because obviously you weren't _that_. ...Not that you couldn't be that! Together I mean. I mean, more together. Than you already are together."

Giles blinked at her again, his gaze much more direct this time.

"Willow,"

"Are you in love with her?" Willow blurted, then grimaced. Buffy was gonna kill her.

Giles sighed, putting down his cup again to remove his glasses from his nose.

"What is all this about, Willow?" He asked relatively patiently, taking his time swiping his handkerchief against the lenses, his eyes focused on his task.

"I'm confused." She admitted, and it was true; she wasn't only speaking Buffy's words. "You guys are different now. And it's great! But it's... weird."

"You've known us both for a very long time, and I'm sure it's- "

"You're all friends-with-benefits-y without the benefits!"

"- difficult to- I'm sorry?" Giles furrowed his brow. "Willow, I assure you, I- I- Buffy and I are... we are... we're deeply committed to one another. We aren't going to make the same mistakes of the past."

"That's not what I'm worried about." Willow told him, and he tilted his head as he put his glasses back on.

"Well- well then, what is it you are worried about?"

"Buffy is in love with you." Willow informed him seriously, speaking calmly and surely now. Giles' eyes widened, but she wouldn't say it was necessarily in surprise. More like fear. "Like, complete and total goner. And watching you two this past year be closer than ever has been really awesome and really _sucky_ at the same time. It's _killing_ her, Giles. _You're_ killing her."

"I- I- she's told me- " He moved his mouth silently for a moment as his arguments warred with one another in his mind before he could get any of them out. "She's happy. She's more at peace with her life than she's ever been - she's told me,"

"Because this commitment thing you guys already have is the most important thing in the world to her," Willow informed him gently, "She doesn't want to ruin it with the smoochies, but it's the _lack_ of smoochies that are causing the problem!"

"I- " He looked frightened again for a moment, and whispered, "Smooch-?" before shaking his head and speaking more firmly, "I told Xander this would happen."

"What would happen?" Willow asked in some alarm.

“Buffy is- Buffy has always been- ” He stammered in discomfort, flushing a little. “Very um, aware of herself, and what she wants,”

“Giles,” Willow squinted at him.

“She shouldn’t worry about our relationship.” Giles finally got out, sounding sure of himself. “She should date, if she wants to. It won’t change things between us.”

“You mean the way it always has in the past?” Willow softly exclaimed, and he didn’t have a retort for that because of course they both knew plenty of examples to prove her point.

“That was different,” Giles eventually tried, “as you said, we are b-better now, closer, more honest with each other,”

“ _You're_ the one she wants to date, you idiot!”

“Excuse me?” Giles looked at her incredulously.

“Sorry. You’re not an idiot.” Willow apologized, contrite, but quickly glared at him again. “Except you’re acting like an idiot!”

“If you’ve brought me to lunch to call me names, Willow,”

“Oh, don’t get that Mr. Librarian Tone with me, buddy!” Willow pointed her finger at him and he sat back slightly in his chair, chastised. “We aren’t in high school anymore. I’m your friend, and that means I can tell you when you’re being dumb. And you’re being dumb!”

“She called me her best friend.” Giles finally said, and Willow hesitated. “Actually, she first called me her husband,” He let out a laugh at that but it didn’t sound like he was amused. “And then she corrected herself and promised me that I was her best friend. Closer, in ways, than even the two of you.”

“Well that makes sense,” Willow reasoned hopefully. “Your bond or whatever - non-magical as it is.” Giles gave her a very dry look, and she huffed in frustration. “I _told_ Buffy back-pedaling wasn’t a good idea.”

"So..." He seemed to collapse more in his chair, and he practically pouted at his mug on the table in front of him. "So you know about it. Our conversation."

"You mean the one you had about a year ago? The one where Buffy was trying to tell you how she felt? The one where Buffy said she saw you like a husband but then you got terrified so she back-pedaled and said you're just _her_ Giles and that's all that really matters to her?" Willow took a deep breath. "That conversation?"

"... Yes."

"You did what she asked!" Willow exclaimed at him, not understanding that he couldn't see it clearly. "You showed her Rupert! You've been so open with her. I don't understand the problem here."

"Because I haven't been entirely open with her." Giles returned, folding his arms across his chest. Willow blinked at him, then leaned forward.

"What haven't you told her?"

Giles looked up toward her, his gaze inscrutable.

"I'm sure you know."

Willow did know.

"She back-pedaled to make _you_ feel more comfortable, Giles." She told him softly. He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

"Shit." He cursed under his breath, rather calmly.

"You've been so busy hiding the fact that you're in love with her, you've made it impossible to see for yourself that she's in love with you." Willow tilted her head at him. "You should go find her." Willow suggested, sitting back in her chair and picking up her mug, taking a long drink from it as she gave him a pointed look over the rim. She could see the concern on his face shift mostly into resolve, and she inwardly grinned to herself.

Maybe Buffy would kill her, but maybe she'd just end up thanking her instead.

Maybe she should find a cave to hide in for a few weeks.  
  


**———**

  
After an hour and a half, he found her, sitting on the steps of The Museum.

He breathed a sigh of relief, and then watched her for a few moments, observing the way the setting sun glinted off the buildings and against her hair. Leave it to Buffy to find the one patch of sunlight in all of England.

He walked up the far side of the steps, so that when he eventually settled beside her it was from behind. He was sure that he hadn’t surprised her; that hadn’t been his intention anyway. He'd just wanted to give her time to leave if she wanted it.

“Hello.” He murmured.

“How’d you find me?” She sat with her elbows between her knees, fiddling with her fingers.

“Well, it did take me over an hour.” Giles replied. They sat in silence for a moment, until he couldn’t stand it any longer. “May I tell you something?”

“Sure, anything. You know that.” Buffy replied immediately, sitting up a little. Ready to be the good friend. It made him feel... painfully desperate for her.

“I’m... in a bit of a predicament, you see...I’ve...I’ve fallen...” He began carefully, growing nervous the longer he stared into her eyes, and her shoulders visibly dropped as she looked ahead again.

“I get it. It’s cool, Giles, it really is,”

“I’ve fallen in love with you.” He let it all out, and then took a deep breath in.

“That’s great. I’m really happy for... you...” Buffy’s barely-positive platitudes trailed off, and Giles bit back his hopeful smile as she visibly registered what he said. She frowned, as if she was sure she misheard him. “Say that again?” She demanded.

“I’ve fallen in love with you.” He repeated just as slowly and calmly, looking into her green eyes. She blinked.

A smile of wonder slowly began to stretch across her face, and Giles carefully smiled back, hoping that it was a good sign. However, Buffy continued to just stare at him, not saying anything, and that hadn't exactly been what he'd expected.

Should he kiss her, now? Or was she expecting some sort of explanation? She seemed to believe his words, but...

"Say it again." Buffy whispered, and he smiled wider, beamed at her really, and slowly twisted to face her more directly, lifting his hand to touch her jaw.

"You are the most lovely... beautiful... brilliant woman I've ever known." He murmured, tucking his fingers into her hair and curling it behind her ear. "It has been my greatest privilege to know you... and it would be my greatest honor to- to love you."

"That's not what you said before." Buffy whispered in awe, her eyes big, and he chuckled nervously.

"Perhaps- perhaps not in so many words," He amended, "What I mean to say is- is, well... I would quite, um, enjoy, I think, being your husband."

"You..." Her smile widened, but then it quickly dropped. "You 'think'?"

"I _know_ ," He stressed with a huff, and she smiled again as she reached for the lapels of his jacket.

"Did you just propose to me, Mr. Giles?" She couldn't help but tease him, brushing her nose against his, and he closed his eyes.

"If- if you're amenable,"

"God, Giles, shut up and kiss me already."

"Of course."

He didn't hesitate.  
  


**———**

  
“Hi guys,” Buffy greeted breathlessly as she burst through the front door. Giles followed closely behind her, yanking the door closed after him. “Bye guys,” They both disappeared up the stairs before Xander or Willow could even completely turn from the television.

Buffy’s bedroom door slammed closed a moment later, and both Willow and Xander flinched. Xander, however, continued on watching tv while Willow stared at the empty space the blur had just been.

A loud thump sounded against one of the walls upstairs.

“Are they fighting?” Willow asked in concern.

“You wanna go up and check?” Xander snorted. No way he was budging.

“One of us should, right?”

“They were holding hands, Willow.” Xander turned his head to give her a look. “They aren’t fighting.” His statement was followed by a couple of more muffled bumps, like shoes bouncing against the floor.

“Oh.” Willow sat there wide-eyed for a brief moment, but then pouted. “I missed that! I can’t believe I missed it. How did you catch that and I didn’t?”

“The new eye,” Xander tapped the side of his head knowingly. It really wasn’t so new, anymore, but he never wasted the opportunity for a joke. “I never take peripheral vision for granted ever again. The All-Seeing Xander now has super-powered vision.”

“Super-powered enough to find the remote? Because I’m thinking we’ll need to turn the volume up.” Willow grimaced, and Xander moved quickly as he began searching the snack-covered coffee table and between the couch cushions.

“I’m thinking that you are absolutely right.” He agreed, as another loud thump sounded from upstairs, followed by a pair of giggling laughter.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

>  _Crossing A Line_ \- Mike Shinoda


End file.
